


Asshole (No Apologies)

by toomanysharks



Series: Am I Dreaming or is that a Prompt-Based Harringrove Series? [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Disaster Steve Harrington, Fluff, Halloween, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Steve Harrington, Short Shorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:33:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24509962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toomanysharks/pseuds/toomanysharks
Summary: Getting stuck in an elevator is bad enough. Getting stuck in an elevator with Billy Hargrove when the dude has been campaigning for asshole of the year, like, all night long? Nightmare. There's no way this could end well.Or is there?
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler - Relationship, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson
Series: Am I Dreaming or is that a Prompt-Based Harringrove Series? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771882
Comments: 5
Kudos: 170





	Asshole (No Apologies)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompts ‘Imagine your OTP stuck in an elevator after they’ve had a fight.’ & “You're really campaigning for Asshole of the Year aren't you?"/ "As defending champion, are you nervous?"  
> \- - - - -  
> Be sure to check out [**Don't Push Me, Push a Push Pop!**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24518380) to see what [**sprinkle_of_cinnamon**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprinkle_of_cinnamon) did with the same prompt. (I promise, it's wildly different and amazing in every way).  
> \- - - - -  
> Title from the Max Frost song of the same name (It's a bop).

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Steve groans when he opens his apartment door to find Billy on the other side, leaning against the doorjam looking cool as fuck. As usual.

“Holy shit, Harrington, what are you wearing?” Billy asks, grin spreading wider as his eyes rake down Steve’s outfit.

Steve looks down at himself, as if he didn’t already know he was wearing a ridiculous sailor’s costume. “The rules were that you had to buy your costume at a thrift shop,” Steve points out, like that alone is enough of an explanation. Which it should be. “What are you wearing? You can’t just show up to a Halloween party in regular clothes. That’s not how it works.”

“I’m a lifeguard, thank you very much,” Billy says, turning around to show Steve the _Hawkins Community Pool_ logo on the back of the hoodie. “You think I already owned shorts like this?” Steve pointedly does not look at the shorts, keeping his gaze in the relative safety zone above Billy’s waist. “Couldn’t find swim trunks so these’ll have to do the job. What do you think, pretty boy, they good enough?” Billy punctuates the question with an eyebrow waggle, running his tongue along his bottom lip.

Steve rolls his eyes at all the facial gymnastics and finally glances at the rest of Billy’s outfit. The little red shorts are certainly doing some kind of job. “I think you’re lucky it’s unseasonably warm this year, or you’d be freezing your balls off,” Steve says, pushing Billy out into the hall and locking the door behind him.

“Could say the same to you, matey,” Billy says, grinning again as he pulls at the hem of Steve’s admittedly rather short shorts.

Steve bats Billy’s hand away, ignores the jab. “Did you get lost on your two block walk over here? You're late, which means we're both late."

“It’s a Halloween party with the brats, I don’t think they’re gonna care if we’re fashionably late,” Billy says, then glances at Steve. “Although _fashionably_ is used loosely here for some of us. I gotta admit though, it looks good on you. Bet it would look even better off of you.”

Billy smirks at him and Steve feels his stomach give a familiar swoop but he ignores it, as usual.

  
"Oh my god, just shut up and get moving."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Steve’s regretting his choices. Again. “Listen, I’m telling you, if we go this way, it’s quicker. There are stairs down the side of the math building we can take as a shortcut.”

“And I’m saying you’re wrong.” Billy crosses his arms over his chest with a huff. “Pretty sure those stairs don’t exist - I’d remember them.”

  
Steve closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh my fucking god. I take these stairs _every day_ to get to class, I can assure you they exist.”

“Not buying it. And I’m really not trying to take the scenic route, so let’s just go this way,” Billy says, taking a step in the wrong direction.

Steve hitches his backpack, glass bottles of liquor knocking against each other with the motion, and considers his options.

One: stand here and keep bickering with Billy until he convinces him to go the way he wants. Two: Follow Billy and go the long way around Three: Split up and get wasted at the party while Billy wanders around campus like a lost idiot because he knows generally where Dustin lives but doesn’t have the exact address.

Option three has the most entertainment appeal, and he lets himself imagine it for a moment. Options one and two both involve having to haul the liquor around for longer than necessary, but at least going with Billy offers some kind of concrete timeframe. Bickering could drag on forever.

“Fine,” Steve huffs, stalking past Billy. “We’ll do it your way, and when we get to the party, everyone else will back me up about the stairs being there.”

Billy laughs at that, falling in to step at Steve’s side.“Ya know what? If the stairs exist, you can exact your revenge however you want - I’ll owe you a favor.”

“However I want, huh?” Steve considers that for a moment. “You know, I could really use a hand on my Victorian Lit essay.”

“Papers are pretty boring in the grand scheme of favors,” Billy muses. “Any other ways I could _give you a hand_ , pretty boy?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he feels his cheeks go a little pink, and he’s grateful for the cover of the night sky. He reminds himself, for what feels like the millionth time, that Billy is just _like that_ and it doesn’t mean anything. “I’m sure that line works wonders on all the ladies.”

* * *

The rest of the walk goes without incident, and Steve only complains _twice_ about having to walk further than usual with a backpack full of booze, which is pretty generous of him.

They finally get up to the apartment, Dustin pulling the door open with a laugh. “Jesus, did you guys get lost? Have a quickie on the way here or something?”

Steve ignores Dustin, pushing past him into the living room and shouting, “Hey shitheads.” Several conversations cut off, and everyone turns to look at him. “Quick poll. Are there stairs along the side of the math building?”

There’s a brief silence, which he thinks they’re going to let him drown in, and then Robin clears her throat. “Yeah?”

“Obviously?” Lucas adds.

Max looks confused that he’s asking. “We take them, like, every day, Steve.”

“Thank you! As a reward, I present you all with booze,” he pulls his backpack off, lifting it up to cheers around the room. He heads to the kitchen to add his bottles to the stockpile.

Billy’s there, leaning against the counter, already nursing a beer. “King Steve. Guess you were right about those stairs. What cruel, unusual, or otherwise sexy punishment are you doling out?”

“My essay is due next week Wednesday. I’ll send you the details tomorrow.” He pats Billy’s cheek, a smug smile on his face.

At some point, after maybe one too many apple-tinis, Dustin manages to rope Steve into playing the game that everyone has been playing, insisting on handing his turn off to Steve.

Seems like the point of the game is to argue with someone about whose fighter would win in a hypothetical fight. He’s not fully sure about the details, but Dustin is drawing cards for him and he’s picking options and before he knows it, he’s got his fighter and he’s feeling pretty confident that he’s gonna win.

Then he realizes Eleven chose Billy as her successor and suddenly he’s a little nervous, because he’s a little drunk and Billy’s _a lot_ distracting and now he has to try to be coherent. Billy grins at him over the top of his own cards, eyes bright with alcohol and _trouble_ and it feels like a fucking challenge and suddenly Steve isn’t so nervous.

He’s good at fighting with Billy, it’s what they do. Fighting with Billy is a rush of adrenaline, and even if he likes to pretend it pisses him off, it usually just leaves him feeling giddy. It’s a good feeling. He can do this.

“Are you guys gonna just stare at each other all night or are you gonna play?” Will asks.

Billy huffs at Will, but lays his cards down on the table. He keeps his eyes on Steve as he announces his hand. “Vampire, covered in spikes, that can control plants. Good luck topping that one, Harrington.”

Steve lays out his cards. “I see your cryptid with a green thumb and I raise you, rabid soccer mom with an impenetrable shield.”

“That’s basically just you, anyway, Steve. Should be pretty easy to get in the headspace,” Mike says, and Steve wants to snark back but he’s too busy staring at Billy’s fucking smile.

“Alright, you’ve got two minutes. Go,” Jonathan announces, holding up the timer on his phone.

Steve makes a pretty good case for his soccer mom, but in the end, the group decides that Billy’s vampire would win, what with the advantage of immortality on his side.

“Whatever, fucking...pasty ass bitch. Who'd wanna live forever without sunshine anyway? What kind of life is that? Fucking vampires, man,” Steve complains as he gets up. “I’m going to get some snacks.”

Steve is rummaging around for something to eat when he hears someone else come in the kitchen. He looks over his shoulder and barely suppresses a groan when he realizes it’s Billy.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’d make a pretty hot rabid soccer mom,” Billy says.

Steve actually does groan at that. “Ugh, let me wallow in my loss in peace.”

“Aw, c’mon, that’d be boring. So what are you doing in a Victorian Lit class? Thought you hated lit classes.” Billy cocks a hip, leans against the counter by Steve.

“More interesting question for you,” Steve says, words blurring together just a little bit, pulling animal crackers out of the cupboard and matching Billy’s stance. Maybe standing too close to him, but whatever. “Animal crackers.” He holds the tub out in front of his face.

Billy raises an eyebrow at him. “Is there a question in there somewhere?”

Steve munches on some animal crackers thoughtfully, nodding. “Yes.” He has to think for a second before he remembers the question he had in mind. “Animal crackers. Cookies or crackers?”

“Crackers, it’s right there in the name,” Billy says, not even thinking about it for a second.

Steve huffs, barely manages to contain the crumbs in his mouth at the force of it. “Cookies, obviously. They’re sweet!”

“Sure, but they’re not called Animal Cookies,” Billy reasons.

Steve cannot handle this. He’s too drunk to think up a response because really, Billy has a point. “Well, would you put cheese on them?”

Billy’s face screws up in disgust. “What? Fuck, no.”

“Exactly, so they’re not crackers,” Steve says, nodding with finality, because that clearly settles it. “Cookies.”

“So the defining characteristic of crackers is ‘would you put cheese on it’? Is that how it works?” Billy’s grinning at him now, and he steals an animal cracker right out of Steve’s hand.

“Hey!” Steve frowns for a moment before he remembers he has a whole tub of them. “No, that’s not the defining characteristic, it’s just...like...one of them. But an important one.”

“You know what,” Billy says, pulling his phone out. “This is exactly what smartphones were made for.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure this exact scenario is what they had in mind when they invented smartphones.”

Billy grins at him, sharp and feral, and Steve can tell this is not going to end well for him. “Google says that even though animal crackers tend to be sweet like cookies, they’re made with a layered dough like crackers and are marketed as crackers and not as cookies.” He pockets his phone with a shrug. “Looks like another win for me.”

Steve snorts. “Congratulations.”

Billy takes a step towards Steve, eating up almost all the space that was between them. Not that there was that much to begin with. “I think maybe as the winner I deserve a reward?” Billy’s eyes dart to Steve’s lips as he runs his tongue over his own. “What do you think, pretty boy?”

“I think...” Steve breathes. Billy is so close and he smells so good and Steve’s stomach is flipping over and he’s 100% on board with this, whatever this is, but then Billy gives a little laugh and Steve’s stomach lurches, and he can tell it’s not just nerves over the fact that Billy Hargrove is maybe going to kiss him. “I think I’m going to throw up if you get any closer.” He quickly extricates himself and rushes to the bathroom.

Fucking apple-tinis.

* * *

There’s a knock at the door and Steve groans. He’s pretty sure he’s only been in the bathroom for like 2 minutes.

“Steve, are you okay?” Nancy’s voice floats through the door. “It’s been, like, 20 minutes.”

Fuck. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Steve calls. “Just gonna clean up a bit and then I’m heading out.”

He pilfers some of Dustin’s toothpaste to brush his teeth and then washes his face, feeling genuinely refreshed when he’s done. When he opens the door, Nancy is still lingering there. “Do you want Jonathan and I to walk you home?”

“You guys live on the opposite side of campus,” Steve says. “Besides, I’m not that drunk anymore, it’s fine.” He really isn’t that drunk anymore, vomiting tends to sober him up, but he also doesn’t really want to walk home with his ex and her new boyfriend.

Nancy narrows her eyes. “You shouldn’t be walking home alone like this though.”

“That’s what I’m here for, Wheeler,” Billy says, appearing out of thin fucking air with Steve’s jacket in his hand. “Ready to go, Captain?”

Nancy glances back at Steve, a silent question in her eyes. _You okay with this?_ Steve just nods at her.

Steve grabs his jacket. “You’re not drunk?”

“I had, like, two beers, dude. I’m good to go,” Billy answers. “Didn’t realize you were so far off your ass,” he adds, a small frown on his face.

“Apple-tinis get me,” Steve shrugs.

Steve makes the rounds, saying goodbye to everyone, giving hugs, getting shit for being too old to hang with the young kids. He feels even more like himself by the time they make it into the elevator. Steve is taking stock of the night, realizing he only has one small black spot of memory where he’s not exactly sure what happened, when the elevator grinds to an abrupt halt.

“Umm, no thanks,” Steve says, hoping the universe will hear him and the elevator will keep moving. He idly wonders what he did to make the universe mad at him while Billy uses the emergency button to contact maintenance.

Billy’s voice pulls Steve out of his contemplation. “Gonna be about 30 minutes. Think you can go that long without spilling your guts again, Harrington? I can probably handle being stuck in here with you, but only if you don’t puke.”

Steve sits down, sprawls his legs out. “I would hurl again just to spite you, but I’m really feeling fine so you should be safe.” He pulls his phone out, texts Dustin to let him know his building sucks and they’re stuck in the elevator.

Billy slides down to the ground, his legs stretching out along Steve’s. “Thank fuck.”

Steve’s phone dings with a text from Dustin. < _Stuck in the elevator with Billy huh? Try not to get up to anything in there >_

Steve shoots back a quick < _fuck u >_

 _< That’s what Billy’s there for!> _Dustin quips, and Steve just groans and locks his phone, putting it away and ignoring the text.

“If you really think it’s so bad spending 30 minutes with me, you didn’t have to come,” Steve points out.

Billy shrugs. “Didn’t feel right letting you walk home alone. I’m going your way anyways.” Billy looks over at him. “Unless you wanted Wheeler and her boyfriend to walk you home? Maybe seduce them both with your short shorts?”

“Oh my god, fuck you,” Steve says. “First of all, you’re not really one to talk about short shorts in _these things_ ,” he pulls at the hem of Billy’s shorts in an imitation of what Billy had done to him earlier that night. “And second of all, just because I’m bi doesn’t mean I’m trying to have the world’s most awkward threesome with my ex and her boyfriend.” Billy opens his mouth to say something, but Steve just keeps going. “And for fucks sake, can you not just be nice to me for 30 minutes? Is that too hard? Like, you're really campaigning for Asshole of the Year, huh?”

Billy smirks. "As defending champion, are you nervous?"

Steve splutters. “Defending champion?! I’ve been perfectly nice to you! Name one mean thing I’ve done.”

“Most recently? You threw up at the idea of me kissing you,” Billy says. “Wasn't very nice.”

“Wait, what? It was the apple-tinis that made me sick,” Steve says. And then his brain processes what Billy said and that little black spot of memory comes back with shocking clarity. Billy leaning in, wrapping his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, tangling his fingers in Steve’s hair.

Billy hums at his side, suddenly interested in the hem of his hoodie. “You literally said you were going to throw up if I got any closer to you,” Billy says. “Didn’t realize you were so far gone or I wouldn’t have even tried, but now I guess I have my answer anyway - initiating someone’s gag reflex isn’t really a good thing.”

Steve cringes. “Okay, it came out wrong.” He turns so he can face Billy. “What I meant was ‘my stomach is already weird from the booze and now you’re close to me and you make my stomach do flips anyway and it’s a bad combination - hold that thought I’ll be right back’. But ya know, the alcohol makes me less coherent.” He pauses, makes sure Billy is looking at him before he keeps going. “Besides, I can think of one way I’d really like for you to trigger my gag reflex.” Steve waggles his eyebrows for emphasis.

Billy laughs at that. “Jesus, Harrington, the cheesy lines are supposed to be my thing.”

Steve laughs with him and then they’re just sitting there, shoulder to shoulder, smiling at each other like goons. “Maybe you should try to kiss me again,” Steve suggests. “I promise not to run off this time.”

“I don’t know, I put the work in last time. Been flirting with you all night and got nothing for it. Maybe I want you to finish the job,” Billy muses.

“Flirting with me? You’ve been fighting with me all night! The costume thing, the stairs, that stupid game, the animal crackers,” Steve ticks them off on his fingers.

Billy laughs again. “You’re fun to rile up, and, I mean, I literally hit on you every single time.”

“I thought you were just like that! With everyone!” Steve says, waving his hands around. “I didn’t think you were being serious.”

“Have you heard me hit on anyone else like that, Harrington?”

Steve opens his mouth, ready to decimate Billy in this argument, but then he’s wracking his brain, trying to come up with an example. And actually, now that he’s thinking about it, it’s been just charming smiles and winks and shit. Like, the last vivid memory Steve has of Billy blatantly hitting on someone (besides him) is from like, high school. Fuck. He covers his face with his hands and groans. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Not an idiot.” Billy wraps his hands around Steve’s wrists and gently pulls his hands away from his face. “I mean, yeah, you’re pretty oblivious. Still attracted to you though.”

“So every time you’ve been an asshole, you’ve been trying to get in my pants,” Steve concludes.

“Most of the time, yeah,” Billy says. “But full disclosure, it’s not in a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of way. Like, I’ve been trying to get in your pants physically and emotionally.”

Steve laughs. “You’ve been an asshole for, like, a year,” he says. And then he realizes what that means.

"I mean, I've been an asshole literally the whole time. But yeah, I've been flirting with you for the last year or so," Billy says.

Steve shifts their hands so their fingers tangle together. “Jesus, I’ve wasted so much time not kissing you."

Billy smiles at him. “Still wasting time, pretty boy.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve breathes, and then he’s closing the space, kissing Billy. He can feel Billy smiling into the kiss, and then he’s letting go of Steve’s hands, getting one hand on Steve’s hip and the other in his hair.

Billy pulls away and Steve can see his smile now and it’s so bright and soft and Steve can’t believe he waited so long to kiss the guy when he looks so fucking good.

After an embarrassing run-in with Josh from maintenance, which thankfully did not involve public indecency, they finally get out of the elevator and back to Steve’s place.

Steve’s stretched out under Billy on his bed, just enjoying the slow, warm kisses. Making up for lost time. Billy kisses his way down Steve’s neck, and it feels amazing, and Steve’s starting to maybe get a little impatient. Between kisses, Billy asks, “Just so we’re clear, should I keep campaigning for asshole of the year? Is that working for you?”

Steve rolls his eyes, hooks his leg over Billy’s hip and flips them so he’s straddling Billy. “What do you think?” He pulls the zipper of Billy’s hoodie down and is relieved to find Billy is still allergic to shirts, even in the chill of Fall, and he slides his hands over Billy’s bare chest.

Billy laughs and pulls him in for another kiss, his hands sliding up under Steve’s shirt. “I think I can’t wait to find out if I’m right about this costume looking even better off of you. What do you say, can I swab your poop deck, matey?”

Steve groans, but he lets Billy pull his sailor shirt up and over his head anyway. “I hate you and your stupid pick up lines so much.”

Billy grins up at him, running his hands over Steve’s thighs. “No, you don’t.”

Steve grabs Billy’s hands and pins them up over his head on the bed. “You’re right, I don’t.”

  
And Steve thinks that fighting with Billy is a rush, but kissing him is better, and he could definitely get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> The game they play at the party is REAL and it's called Superfight - 10/10 would recommend.
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr as [herobuckybarnes](http://herobuckybarnes.tumblr.com).


End file.
